Healing
by RobertDowneyJrLove
Summary: Steve's tired of bullies and of his moniker. Natasha's been there. Together, they find emotional healing and learn to love who they are, who they've been and they'd like to be. Even if they are the only ones who do.


_E.E. Cummings said, "The hardest challenge is to be yourself in a world where everyone is trying to make you be somebody else."_

* * *

His shield lay at his feet.

The singed red and white stripes outline a beaten white star, evidence of a long, hard battle. It's the only sign that he had emerged victorious in a battle that had seemed to drain the life out of him. The cruelty of men never ceased to baffle him; how someone could treat other human beings as if they were nothing more than scum on the street. It hurt him to bear witness to the more tragic parts of humanity. It reminds him of being a kid on the streets of Brooklyn, small and defenseless, left at the mercy of a bully whose cruelty was only limited by his strength. At time, the brute strength and savagery seemed to have no end until Bucky came along and stood up for him.

Until Bucky became his best friend.

And until Abraham Erskine came along with his group of scientist friends and his new serum that could change Steve Rogers' life in more ways than one. He'll be the first to admit, at the time, if it hadn't of been for the relentless bullying and his perpetually failing health, he might not have gone through with the procedure. But he needed it more than he wanted it and Erskine had been insistent that he was the right man for the test.

Thus, Steven Rogers was transformed into super-soldier extraordinaire and adopted the moniker, Captain America.

Now, though.

Now, he'd give anything to rid himself of that moniker. He'd give anything if he could just live a normal life. He doesn't want to see the unbearable brutality of man. He doesn't want to be the end to the constant string of bullies in the world. He wants to be himself again. He wants to be Steve Rogers. Just Steve Rogers. No serum, no suspended animation, no moniker and no superhero status that he doesn't see himself as worthy of. He knows that, that's impossible, though and that's why he escapes whenever possible.

He leaves S.H.I.E.L.D and goes to the East River Bridge. Nobody recognizes him, or if they do, they don't show it. He doesn't have to worry about the media crawling up his ass or Nick Fury delivering a disgruntled lecture of some propriety of field work that he honestly could not care any less about. Quite frankly, he doesn't know of one agent that gives a damn about any of the drivel Fury relentlessly pounded into their skulls. It was boring and monotonous and if you were lucky, you learned to tune him out rather quickly. Or escape, as he himself, often does.

The bridge is where she finds him tucked into himself like a caterpillar in a cocoon. His eyes have become a slighty more-gray-than-blue storm cloud of emotion thundering away in his head and she can see in the way he trembles, even in the warm summer air, that he feels exposed and vulnerable. The strands of his emotional cocoon are fraying and splitting, laying him bare to the icy sting of his own feelings, whatever they happen to be.

"Captain," Her voice is soft and calm; a soothing steadiness amongst the rolling storm cloud of emotion he's thundering through at the moment. His eyes, dark and ever so slightly damp with tears, watch her as she settles against the rails, shoulders firmly set and a tranquility in her jade eyes.

"Natasha." The use of her full first name stings but she knows she shouldn't be too upset. "How did you find me?"

"It wasn't that hard," Natasha shrugs, shifting her hips against the railing of bridge. "The East River bridge is also called the Brooklyn Bridge. I figured since you're from Brooklyn..."

"You got the first part right. But I don't come here because I'm from Brooklyn." Steve absently kicks the shield laying at his feet, "I come here because nobody recognizes me. I can drop the Captain America act and just be Steve."

It's simple enough to deduce. The broken shield, the equally as broken man, the pieces of his emotions scattered about like broken glass. He's trying to pick himself up and some how, piece the part of himself that he loses, back together after his latest mission. Every bully, he has to battle takes part of him and he's left trying to feel whole again. And usually, it works. It takes him a while to dust off but he always manages.

"You are always Steve. Captain America is an alias. It's not who you are." Natasha informs him firmly even as her voice shakes with a nervousness she can't be bothered to hide. She can't handle seeing him like this. She doesn't like it. This isn't the Steve she knows. This isn't the man who would do whatever she asked of him and never want anything in return. This is just a shell of who he used to be and she wonders if the real Steve is still there, hiding in that shell.

"That's a lie, Natasha." Steve laughs dryly, staring at her with empty eyes. "I'm never going to be just Steve again. As long as there is Captain America, there can be no Steve Rogers. There isn't room for both. Not in a world like this, Tasha."

"Like what?"

"In a world with bullies." Steve's coldness slices through her, piercing and uncomfortable. "Bullies that think nothing of treating people like scum. Tormenters that treat people like filthy bastards, when they should be looking in the mirror."

"You think just being Steve isn't good enough?" Natasha questions softly.

"In the real world, Steve was never good enough. Being myself was asking for trouble." Steve drags his hand through his hair and closes his eyes, his head dropping into his chest. "Captain America was my only escape. I needed it. I didn't want it. Being myself, being the scrawny kid from Brooklyn, wasn't going to do anything but get me killed."

"What was he like? That scrawny kid from Brooklyn?" Natasha inquires, genuinely curious.

"Scared of everything." Steve offers bitterly, the pain of remembrance burning in his eyes. "Natasha, have you ever wanted to end it? Just end it."

"End it?" Natasha asks him nervously, hoping like hell he wasn't talking about what she thought he was.

"Kill yourself, Natasha." Steve's voice is harder, angrier; corkscrewing through her, straight to where it hurt the most, wringing her out. He releases a hard, heavy breath and his eyes drop to the churning river beneath them. His voice is hoarse and low when he speaks again; "I don't want to live like this anymore, Natasha. I can't."

"Steve -"

"I want to do it, Natasha." The desperation in his voice, draws tears to her eyes. It hurts her to know that he feels like this and there isn't anything she can say that could make it better. This isn't a scrape that will heal itself. This isn't an easy fix. "I don't want to do this anymore."

She's used to taking risks, toeing that fine line between life and death but this is something that she's not sure how to deal with. She thinks he'd be better off talking to Bruce but given his fragile state of being right now, that is not a card she's willing to lay on the table. The last thing she needs is for him to think that she's trying to pawn him off on someone else. She isn't. She just thinks Bruce would be better at handling this sort of thing. Well. Actually, there maybe one thing she can do to help him.

"I wanted to end it, too. Just like you did." Natasha tells him quietly, closing her jade eyes in silent remembrance of the mission that almost ended her. "I got low too, you know. I didn't want to be a spy anymore. I wanted to be Natasha, not Black Widow, but I couldn't and I wanted to ended it."

"What made you change your mind?" Steve inquires, fixing her with an intense stare.

"I was in Gulmira at the time." Natasha begins, delicate threads of remembrance and pain weaved into the strong thread of her voice, pulled taut and ready to snap. "I was doing what I usually do. I had to gather intel from morons that don't know how to keep their mouth shut."

"Sounds fun." Steve offers her a dull, sarcastic laugh.

"It was going fine." Her voice shakes, an obvious reminder she's still burdened with all the pain and the nervousness and the terror of that day. "They were giving me everything. It all went wrong, though and an innocent man was taken hostage along with his daughter. She was seven or eight, I don't remember now. He was all she had."

"Nat -"

"No. I want to tell you." Natasha shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "At the time, I was so tired of what I was doing that I considered letting them kill me, just to let the girl and her father get out of it alive. I knew that if I didn't let them kill me, I'd consider killing myself later. I took a risk and made a choice that let them go. I don't regret it. It was the little girl, though. She's what made me change my mind."

"What'd she do?"

"She gave me a hug. I had a gun in my hand at the time," Natasha can't help but smile a little at the memory. "I thought she'd be scared of me, but all she could do was hug me. She thanked me a thousand times. I couldn't do it after that. I couldn't end it. I don't know why but after seeing how grateful that little girl was, I couldn't do it."

"That's a great story, Natasha, but in case you haven't noticed, this isn't Gulmira." Steve bites out rancorously.

"No." Natasha resists the urge to match his tone, instead choosing to remain eerily calm about the situation at hand. "But it's the same situation. You want to end it but you don't. Not really. You think you do, because you think you're Captain America now, instead of Steve Rogers but I don't see Captain America."

"How could you not? I'm wearing the suit!" Steve grits his teeth, his entire body tensing against her voice.

"But you are not the suit, nor are you the name that comes with it." Natasha informs him in her typical pragmatic manner. She's sensible and realistic, choosing the matter-of-fact over the unreasonable and imaginative alternatives. "You think all people see is the suit and the name?"

"Seems like it." Steve sighs wearily.

"You are much more than a suit, a shield and a name." Natasha uncrosses her arms and rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I happen to know that you're an incredible artist and one of the smartest people I know. Steve Rogers, no matter if it's the scrawny kid from Brooklyn or the Steve Rogers I know, is one hell of a guy. I don't know why it matters who people see. You're Captain America because you're Steve Rogers. Because you're honest, almost to a fault, you'd do anything for anyone who asked and never expect anything in return and you're one of the bravest and strongest people I know."

His eyes sting, tears clinging to his eyelashes, begging to be set free. Her words evoke something in him. Something that helps him find some peace. Something that pulls him off of the ledge and back into the world. It makes him realize that no matter how down he gets, she's always there with her unfailing calmness and uncanny ability to read him like an open book. He finds her easily, despite the tears blurring his vision and wraps his arms around her, tugging her to him. She wraps her arms around his shoulder and rests her head on his chest. The tears slip out of his eyes and into her hair. He clings to her like a lifeline, trembling against the warm, softness of her body.

"I'm sorry, Natasha." He whispers, his words getting lost in her red hair. "I'm so sorry."

When she gets him home, they're both trembling, shaken from the events of the past hour. It's an innocent kiss, at first, one of gratitude but it is in that kiss that they find the comfort they need - the emotional healing - and it is what leads them to his bedroom. It's in his bedroom, wrapped in the tangled sheets and glistening with sweat, that they truly discover one another. They find what hurts and what feels good. They find what makes the other laugh and makes them cry. They reconcile the past, leaving it behind them with tales of bullies and ledgers and things they want to forget but can't. They share memories and thoughts and little bits of information. They weave a web of friendship, of devotion and of what they both truly believe is love.

It is in his bedroom, only illuminated by the silver strands of moonlight that stream through the window, that Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff find out who they are, who they've been and who they want to be and learn to love all of them.

Even if it means, they are the only ones who do.

* * *

**I am having the epitome of rough days. I slept off and on last night, never really staying asleep for more than hour at a time and I was already a little bit grumpy when I went to bed last night because of...I don't even remember now. Well between that and the severe lack of proper sleep, I have been going back and forth between emotional extremes all day so I'm a little drained right now. I'm sorry if this is disappointing but I really wanted to get it up before the weekend and...I'm sorry. I'm really not emotionally stable at the moment. And I'm not entirely sure my late night viewings of Sweeney Todd have helped any. I mean don't get me wrong, Johnny Depp is sexy as hell as Sweeney but let's be honest, that movie doesn't necessarily bode well for emotional stability. **

**The reason I say he needed the serum more than he wanted it is, is because I think that was the case. He wanted to be a soldier, yes, but I'm not sure Captain America is really what he had in mind. Lol! That's all the explanation I feel like giving at the moment. **

**Anyway, Muldoon22, bless your patience with me, dearie! I don't know how you managed it. I do hope I did your idea** **justice! And ym4yum1, I seriously don't know where I'd be without you. Not writing Steve/Natasha, I'm sure! You both have so much patience with me and I'm not entirely sure why! **

**Leave me some love, Dolls! **

**Love ya, **

**RobertDowneyJrLove **

**P.S. Still trying to figure out when I started saying, "Leave me some love, Dolls!" and I haven't the slightest idea. Lol! **


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